An Evening of Blood
by thatautomailgeek
Summary: Winry and Arthur go out for a hunt, but they get in a fight (not with each other, but with bandits) that doesn't end so well for the blonde. Can her husband cope? How much will these series of events affect Camelot's future? Winthur.


King Arthur Pendragon sat at the head of the Round Table. His chin was held high and he spoke with a voice of authority to the knights which sat around him. In truth he didn't have a much higher authority than the knights, but they would always bow to him and do as he wished.  
That is the way of Camelot in those days.

Intertwined in the young king's fingers were the slightly more delicate fingers of his wife, the queen. She had a kind look about her, and a lively light behind her blue eyes. Ever since she'd become queen, the story of how she and Arthur met had become legend because the lady Winry's maid didn't know how to keep a secret. Not that she truly minded.

The king ended the meeting, and the knights dispersed and eventually the two monarchs were left alone in the grand throne room.

Arthur was the first to speak. "It's been brought to my attention you entered your name into the annual hunt tomorrow."

Winry raised an eyebrow. "And? I'm not using magic, if that's what you think."

"It's not that."

"Then what is it?"

"I don't want you getting hurt."

"I can handle weapons. I used to be a smith, in case you don't recall."

"I just-  
"I want you to be careful."

"I'm always careful."

Arthur resigned to the fact that she was still as stubborn and determined as she'd been when they first met. He wouldn't be able to convince her otherwise, and might as well accept it.

Winry gave her husband a gentle smile. She was curious about how the hunt would go, and was secretly hoping she could win and prove to Arthur, once again, that she could take care of herself.

On the following morning, instead of donning a gown like she usually did, Winry wore a pair of leather pants and a cloth shirt, fitting armor over it comfortably. She was glad for the flexibility of chainmail.

Arthur too put on his armor in the morning, for the hunt wouldn't be long after breakfast.

After a hasty meal, the two went down to the pavilion where the hunt was to be hosted and took their place in the stands.

Over the next hour a couple hundred peoples showed up. The king stood and quieted the crowd. He spoke the words in the same tone that he spoke to the knights (though perhaps more regally).  
".. And the most valuable, not the most, kills determined the winner."

The crowd burst into cheers and everyone gathered in the center, some rushing off to gather their weapons.

Arthur had his sword, Excalibur, in its sheath, and he had his crossbow slung over his back, many bolts to spare.

Winry had her own crossbow, since she preferred that to hand-to-hand, and it was simpler than a traditional bow and arrows.

The crowd, almost as one, moved towards the forest, dispersing into loners and pairs or trios to work together. Eventually Winry and Arthur were left alone to begin their hunt.

The forest was awfully quiet, and Arthur made a suggestion. "We should split up and see if we can find anything on our own."

The two went in different directions. Winry walked for several minutes before spotting a large stag. She readied her crossbow, pointed straight at the stag's head.

Then she heard the yell. Immediately the stag ran off and she dropped her weapon, turning to run. Had that been Arthur?

Her feet pounded over the soil as she ran as fast as her legs would carry her to the source of the sound.

There were five bandits surrounding the king as he had his sword in his hand, held up protectively. Shards of wood that had been his crossbow lay strewn across the ground.

Her eyes turning gold for a moment, two of the bandits were thrust back through the air, one hitting a tree with a disgusting crunching sound. The other fell to the ground, shocked and confused.

Arthur took the opportunity to strike at another of the bandits, Excalibur meeting the flesh on the arm of the burliest of the three. When he brought the sword back towards him, it had dark bloodstains on it.

Winry lifted one of the unharmed bandits into the air, slamming him back to the ground. Her eyes remained golden through the whole process, and her usually kind face having an unusual ferocity.

The last guy looked frightened of the two and their fighting, so he grabbed his friend whose blood was spilling and began to run.

"You okay?" Winry asked worriedly, looking over her husband with concern.

"I'm fine." Arthur reassured her.

In their moment of letting their guard down, a previously concealed assailant let loose a bolt from his crossbow directed at the queen's heart.

Winry saw the bolt flying through the air and shifted its path with magic, though it was difficult because of its speed.

At the very same instant, Arthur's protective instincts took over and he pushed Winry aside, intending to let himself be hurt instead of her.

A small burst of blood was coupled with a shocked expression on the blonde sorceress's face.  
She fell over backwards, lifting her hand which she'd subconsciously clamped over her wound. The hand was covered with dark blood.

Arthur let out a partial-gasp, partial-cry and hurried down to his wife's side, one arm cradling her head and the other wrapped around her waist.  
"Win-" He choked on his next words.

Winry coughed slightly. "Doesn't look good, does it?"

"Sssh." The frantic king hushed her. "You'll just be fine."

With another cough, this time blood trickling out the corner of her mouth, Winry shook her head. "We both know that's a lie."

"It's not!"

"Arthur, listen." She took a deep, shuddering breath, her lively blue eyes full of pain.  
"I love you.

_"It's not your fault."_

Those were her final words as her shaking body slowed and stopped, her arms going limp, and the light moving out of her eyes.

The usually stoic and held-together young man couldn't hold himself up right now. He lifted his hands, both drenched in his deceased wife's blood. He stared down at his palms, the drying liquid making him feel sick to his stomach.

His eyes stung with salty tears and they soon began to pour. He choked on his breaths, each hot tear running down his cheeks, some brushing his lips, and dropping onto his hands, leaving little circles of swirling red liquid.

After an hour of crying and pulling himself back to composure, Arthur put both his strong arms beneath Winry's body, lifting her almost-cold corpse back to Camelot. He felt numb- couldn't feel any pain from carrying such a heavy load, I'd he had any.

His heart was broken.

News spread like wildfire through Camelot that their queen had died. Although she hadn't been queen for long, Winry had become beloved by her people. The day of her funeral was a solemn one.

After the funeral, Arthur retreated to his chambers. This was almost worse than when his father died.. Yes it was worse. Sure his father was..well..his father, but he'd fallen in love and chosen it, and now she was gone.

It was hard to accept that she was gone.

Merlin came to visit the young king later that evening. "How're you.. Holding up?"

"How do you think, you clotpole?"

"I know it's hard, but-"

"No, you don't know. You haven't had your heart torn in two and stomped into the ground and all the hope you'd had for a better future dissolve like snow melting."

The warlock didn't know what to say, so he simply bowed his head and left the king alone.

To himself, where no one else could hear, he made a promise that Winry would've hated, but he couldn't help it.

"I'll never love again."

As years went by he was still a just king. He brought Albion into an era of happiness, and though his wounds would heal and the pain would dull to a throbbing ache, he never forget the feeling of loss when the light disappeared from a former blacksmith's eyes.

He married again, but only to preserve the integrity of his crown. A son became his legacy, and while he cared deeply for them he always kept his distance from his queen.

His heart lay buried six feet deep next to a blonde sorceress.


End file.
